Higher Expectations
by anonwriter64
Summary: Round 2 entry for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition! "Write about a character who's always been fawned on having to work for recognition and acceptance."


CHASER 3: _Leo (July 23-August 22). _Vivacious, theatrical, and passionate, Leos love to bask in the spotlight and celebrate themselves. These lions are natural leaders, and they enjoy cultivating friendships and romances that are artistically and creatively inspired. **Write about someone who's always been a leader (explicitly or otherwise) having to learn to follow someone else OR ****write about a character(s) who's always been fawned on finding themselves having to work for recognition and acceptance.**

Prompts:

#3: (word) blazing

#13: (phrase) holding their head high

#15: (word) passion

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"And... start!" Kingsley Shacklebolt exclaimed, shooting off sparks from his wand as he watched the battle in front of him. It was over much more quickly than he would have expected, and with a few quick flashes and a thud, Harry Potter, the great boy-who-lived, was lying on the floor, stunned.

Angela Warren, an Auror trainee who was three years into the program and two years away from graduating, seemed perturbed. "You mean to tell me that this is the person who defeated Voldemort?"

Kingsley nodded, stoic as usual, and said, "Of course, all of the training he's been given has been very... unorthodox. He is mostly self-taught and hasn't been trained professionally by anyone. Although I did expect more than this."

The silence continued for several more moments before Kingsley sighed, shaking his head - almost in disappointment - before pulling out his wand, pointing it at the teenager on the ground. He muttered, "_Rennervate_."

Harry shot up, flinching as if he was still in the battle. He looked around, recognizing that he was no longer fighting and was surrounded by his colleagues very quickly. With blazing speed, his cheeks washed red with embarrassment, and he quickly ran his fingers through his hair - clearly nervous.

"Well," Kingsley started while Harry tried to collect himself by standing up and fixing his posture. "I recommend that you start training yourself on your own time in addition to your time here - if not for your previous accomplishments, and me having seen your talent myself, you would not have been accepted into the Auror program."

Harry's jaw dropped, and he looked shocked. It was clear to the others in the room that he was not used to receiving such harsh feedback, but he quickly recovered and quietly said, "Of- of course, sir. I'm sorry."

A solemn nod of dismissal later and Harry left, entering the elevator at the end of the hallway, going up to the streets of London. Exiting the phone booth, Harry sighed and began walking towards the apartment that he owned with his best friend.

His thoughts were going a mile a minute. Receiving such a poor reception to his first test as an Auror trainee was very disappointing, and Harry felt as if he had been thrown for a loop. He had always been told that he was gifted for his age and he had just been told quite the opposite.

Harry rushed inside his apartment, jumping onto the couch before the door even had the chance to shut. He didn't even take notice of his best friend who was standing in the kitchen, preparing a very healthy meal of pancakes.

The redhead looked at his roommate, eyes wide with shock, as he said, "'Lo, mate. How was it?"

"Not good - I was down in thirty seconds and Kingsley told me that he wouldn't have accepted me into the program if it weren't for my being the… well, you know," Harry explained, rubbing his hands over his face. Another thing that didn't quite help him feel any better was that Ron's assessment the other day had gone very well.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. "Never would've seen that one coming."

Harry shot his friend a venomous look and Ron quickly turned his gaze to the pancake on the frying pan in front of him.

After a few minutes of no sound except for the sizzle of the frying pan and the flipping of the pancake, Ron called Harry to the table.

It was apparent to Harry that Ron was hesitant to speak because the redhead kept on glancing up at him with a questioning gaze. Finally, Harry gave in and spoke. "Do you think Hermione could give me something that'll help? Like a training system or something?"

Rom snorted, making Harry freeze and fix his best friend with a glare. Flustered, Ron sputtered out, "Of course- Hermione has something for everything!"

Harry gave Ron a petulant look, squinting his eyes like a child typically would. This action completely destroyed the serious mood, and both of them broke down in laughter. The light mood that normally filled the apartment returned and before the laughter stopped, the roar of the floo came to life and someone appeared in their fireplace.

Both boys turned quickly, hands on their wands - just as their many experiences from the war had groomed them to do - only to see Hermione.

Ron stood up first, embracing Hermione and giving her a kiss, while Harry sat awkwardly, not quite sure what to do. A moment later, Hermione solved that problem for him and came up, grabbing his shoulders and looking over him as if to see if anything was wrong, before hugging him tightly.

Harry had never gotten very used to physical contact but tried his best to respond in a normal way. "Hello, Hermione," He said quietly, "How's Hogwarts?"

"_Oh_," Hermione groaned, letting go of Harry and sitting at the table, clearly exhausted. "You wouldn't believe the state of everything. Half the students in our year decided not to return! There are no Gryffindor boys left other than Neville! Our classes are so small, they've been able to fit everyone from all four houses into the same classes!"

Hermione's rant continued for many more minutes, and finally, she stopped, out of breath. She looked around at the two boys bashfully, a faint blush dusted on her cheeks, "What? Why are you two so silent today?"

"Er," Harry started, eloquently as always, "Is there any chance you could get me a training schedule? I need to improve - and fast."

Her eyes lit up, and she exclaimed, "Sure! What specifically would you like to improve in?"

Ron and Harry shared a quick, uneasy glance before turning back to their friend. Harry answered questioningly, "...Everything? I mean, I guess duelling mostly would be best - but I could afford some training in some other areas as well."

"Duelling?" Hermione asked, stunned, "You're amazing at duelling! Why would you need to improve?"

Harry winced and Ron shot him a sympathetic look. "I'm not up to par with the Auror trainee standards… My first review went badly and I need to improve - a lot - by the next review. Which is in… Three months?"

Ron nodded in affirmation. "And I'll be doing it with him."

Taken aback, Harry turned to Ron and blurted out, "What? Why? You said your review was fine!"

The redhead shrugged, blushing slightly, muttering, "That doesn't mean I don't want to improve…"

Silence hung over the trio for a few moments as the other two sat in shock before Hermione gave a short squeal and said, "Ron! This is the most motivated you've ever been! I'll have the schedule for you by next week!"

The table burst out in laughter, Ron rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly and Harry patted his back in mock support.

When they stopped laughing, Hermione steeled herself and immediately got to asking questions about what they wanted their schedule to focus on.

By the end of the night, Harry had a permanent grimace etched on his face, and he began to regret enlisting Hermione to train them.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Three months later, Harry walked into the Auror training room with his head held high despite his embarrassment three months before.

Like before, the training room was empty except for Kingsley Shacklebolt and the woman from before - Angela Warren. Harry hadn't seen either of them since the previous assessment and that had only made everything more nerve-wracking.

Three months of training had done Harry a lot of good. Not only had he improved immensely but his demeanour was much more self-assured than it had been previously and he held himself with a pride that was well-deserved. The first month had been a struggle and Harry had wanted nothing more than to quit, but by the time the monthly rankings came out, nobody could deny the improvement. He had gone from 38th in the class of 44 to 22nd.

Everyone except for Ron had been shocked by the sudden improvement but it had shown in all of their classes.

Ron had also improved, but not quite as much as Harry. Quickly after beginning the training program, Ron had revealed that he felt as if his assessment going so well had been a fluke - a few minutes of good luck. Harry and Hermione had assured him that he was skilled, but when Harry duelled him to allow Hermione to determine their skill level, Harry had won in a little over two minutes. Ron had gone from 29th to 25th in those 30 days.

By the time three months was up, not only had Harry been estimated as eighth in his class (their ranking was estimated by their instructor and then determined by Kingsley and an upperclassmen of his choice) but his instructor had pulled him aside at the end and told him that he had been extremely impressed with his progress.

Over the course of the last few months, Harry had grown to admire his instructor and so a compliment like that had lit a flame over the burning passion that he already had. He was determined to get into the top five.

He wanted to prove to Kingsley that he was good enough to be taking the course and that he hadn't only been let in because of his status as the famed 'Boy-Who-Lived'.

"Harry," Kingsley said in his deep velvety tone, nodding his head in greeting. He seemed to be appraising Harry - he clearly noticed the drastic improvement in the way Harry held himself and Harry couldn't help but feel a little bit proud of that. "I take it that you've been working hard since last time?"

Harry nodded, standing a little bit straighter and saying, "Of course, sir."

A small smirk flitted over Kingsley's face bit disappeared as soon as it came. Angela's expression was clearly one of apprehension as she also noticed the change. It was very different from the look of indifference that she had given him before. Kingsley stated emotionlessly, "Wands out."

Angela and Harry settled themselves about 20 feet apart from each other and got into their duelling stances. Before beginning, Kingsley looked over both Harry and Angela and raised an eyebrow at Angela. "Warren, your stance is too wide. Bring in your left foot."

She shot Kingsley an odd look and he said, "You're both here to improve and be judged. Potter, on his improvement and how he stands up against an upperclassman, and Warren, on your skills as an instructor and how you handle duelling someone who _should _be lower than you."

Both of the duellers sharply looked at Kingsley, both noting his careful use of the word 'should'. Suddenly, when they were both caught off guard, the older man barked out, "Begin!"

Harry darted left as Warren fired off a disarming spell, and quickly returned a stunner which his opponent blocked with a shield spell.

As the battle continued, the spells continued to become more and more obscure - both of them throwing in some of the few allowed dark curses. At one point, Harry caught both Kingsley and Warren flinching as he cast '_Serpensortia'_.

It was a low blow - especially to someone who had fought against the dark in the last war - but one of the main principles of the Aurors was that as long as it won't affect someone in any way for more than a few months, it's not off limits. Use whatever you can to your advantage. It had changed during the war. Beforehand, dark spells were completely banned and looked down upon.

Harry, surprisingly enough, found no qualms with learning and using dark spells in battle. After all, they were incredibly useful and not always more dangerous than any normal neutral spell.

For the first time in the battle that had so far lasted for about four minutes, a wound was dealt, and surprisingly enough to Harry, it wasn't him who received the wound.

Warren let out a sharp gasp in pain as the snake managed to slip past her guard and bit her right ankle. Suddenly her stance was not as flawless as it had been before and she heavily leaned on her left side to avoid more pain.

Harry took advantage of her sudden weakness and aimed several spells in a row to her left side so that she would move to the right, only to suddenly aim a stronger version of the stunning spell a bit to the right - exactly where she was moving to dodge the first spells.

Her eyes widened as she moved right into the spot that Harry's second spell was flying towards. In the split second before the spell hit her, she realized Harry's strategy and that if she wanted to dodge this spell she would need to perform a very quick turn that would injure her ankle further. A shield spell would also be ineffective because she didn't have enough time to cast anything more than a simple _protego_ and that wouldn't hold underneath the strength of the stunning spell.

A flood of pride ran through Harry's veins as he watched his opponent collapse to the ground. He turned to Kingsley whose expression was borderline emotionless with a hint of pride. "Good job, Harry. You're dismissed."

Harry's eyes widened and he said, "Of course, sir. Thank you." The last thing he saw before turning on his heel and leaving was Kingsley turning to the third year student and cancelling the stunning spell.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

That night was spent celebrating, but despite the fact that Harry had fun - the true purpose was to get his mind off of whether or not he would make it into the top five. He felt as if he had spent the last three months working towards the moment when their rankings would be shown - what if he didn't make it?

Harry had voiced his concerns to his friends and they had quickly shut him down with quick comments of, "You have nothing to worry about," and, "You beat the person who was supposed to test you! Of course you'll make it!"

This hadn't quite reassured him.

Walking into the trainee office with Ron by his side, Harry resisted the strong urge to twitch as best he could. His nerves were getting to him and he was praying that it wasn't too obvious.

Ron and Harry sat down at their desks which were right next to each other and glancing around the room. It was filled with other trainees at their desk, all sending nervous glances to the currently blank parchment on the wall. When the clock hits 9, their results should appear on the paper.

Casting a quick _tempus_, Harry swore under his breath as he saw that there were only two minutes to spare.

The rest of the two minutes were spent with Harry's leg bouncing up and down under his leg and his fingers twitching incessantly. Luckily for him, nobody noticed except for Ron, who just shot him a look that said, '_Why are you nervous? You have nothing to worry about.'_

The moment the results appeared, the ink flowing down the page in a neat cursive print, Harry felt his heart stop.

He was third in his class.

Harry's jaw dropped and felt like he couldn't tear his eyes away from the parchment. That is - until Ron clapped him on the back. Harry turned to Ron and saw the redhead with a broad grin plastered on his face.

A quick glance to the parchment told Harry that Ron had come in 12th, a vast improvement from the 29th he had started with. Harry congratulated Ron on his improvement, and couldn't help but laugh at the shade of red that his best friend's face turned at the compliment.

Harry felt more proud of himself than he ever had in his life. After having felt like he never deserved any of the things he had accomplished this was different. It felt so much better when everything wasn't handed to him; when he had to push himself to his limits to accomplish anything.

This was the fruits of his labour, proof that his hard work wasn't for nothing.

And he couldn't have been happier that he got to do it alongside his friends.


End file.
